


Knocking

by ModSoul



Series: Between the Lines [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Study, Chronic Pain, Gen, Implied Relationships, Injury Treatment, Season/Series 04, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModSoul/pseuds/ModSoul
Summary: The true reason why Victor Zsasz doesn't knock.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Victor Zsasz, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Victor Zsasz
Series: Between the Lines [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588390
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Knocking

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a larger series depicting moments during and after the show that were only briefly mentioned or not shown at all.

> _“Boss.”_  
>  _“Knocking, Victor. We discussed this.”_  
>  _“Uh-huh.”_  
>  \- 4x04 A Dark Knight: The Demon's Head

_In the newly established Iceberg Lounge_

“Hey Boss!” Victor greeted excitedly, just to be rewarded with an angry “Go away!”  
Taking in the scene before him, Victor swiftly shut the door behind himself, locking it in the process, completely ignoring the order. No one needed to see _The Penguin_ lying on the floor of his office. His bad leg at an odd angle, Victor was sure the limb must have given out underneath the other. It had been a long and stressful day and he knew of his bosses dislike for taking pain medication. But pure stubbornness only lasted so much.  
“Need a hand, boss?” He offered, squatting down beside Oswald.  
“Go away!” The other only repeated, his voice breaking, unwilling to look at him, but also unable to move much from the position his body had crumbled into.  
It did not look comfortable. And judging by the tears glistening in Penguin’s eyes, it was also quite painful.  
“Let me help you,” Victor offered again, calmly. Carefully, he placed his hand on the other’s hips, to at least turn him onto his back, yet the gesture send another jolt of pain through the small body, drawing a tiny whimper from Penguin. Time and again, Victor was impressed at his ability to downplay what must be excruciating pain. Not for the first time he wondered what would happen if they truly were at odds with each other and what techniques he would have to resort to in order to draw a genuine cry of pain from him. “Breath,” Victor ordered, running his hand soothingly over the other’s hipbone, after he had at least turned him to the side.  
It took a while for Penguin to follow the command, tears now streaming down his face. Victor knew they were not a sign of weakness, but rather the bodies’ way of coping with things that are too much to handle.  
  


_Some time after the Riddler started his show in the Narrows_

“Yo, Penguin!” Victor greeted jovially, only to stop in his tracks.  
The other sat sprawled on the floor, shards of glass all around him, a vacant look in his eyes. Victor kicked the door shut, the lock clicking into place through the force. Penguin did not even look up from staring at his hand. When he shook it, Victor could see a few splinters in his palm.  
“Let me help you with that,” Victor announced, squatting down slowly.  
As expected Penguin jumped back, putting weight on his injured hand, though even fully intoxicated all he let out was a hiss.

With some effort, he managed to coax Penguin to sit on the round sitting thing he had in his office and told him to stay there. Though when Victor returned with the first aid kit, he was slouched down, poking at his hand, trying to take the splinters out by himself. Victor sighed and knelt down before his boss. He pulled the hands apart, earning a huff, but he ignored it. He then prepared what he needed and took the other’s hand, slowly pulling out the smaller pieces. Penguin did not make a sound as he worked, yet Victor felt him tense and hold his breath. When he put away the cleaning materials the other slumped to his side, probably exhausted from the pain and the alcohol.  
“I know, you want me to knock, so I won’t see you like this, but I don’t care,” Victor told him as he carefully stitched the palm. “You’d probably not understand,” he whispered as he bandaged the hand that he knew was capable of murder, as much as kindness. But it would not have been necessary, as Penguin had already fallen asleep. Victor gently stroked the other’s cheek. “I’d rather face your wrath than be too late.”

_A couple of years earlier_

Victor loudly knocked on the door, so she would hear it even, if she were in one of the rooms furthest away from it. Swaying back and forth he waited a moment before knocking again.  
“Hey, you’re ready?” He yelled out, listening for a reply.  
After waiting some more Victor decided to pick the lock. Maybe she fell asleep in the bathtub while listening to some music and he had not been loud enough to reach her. The flat was as clean as always and indeed he heard a quiet dripping sound from the direction of the bathroom. With a jump in his step, he made his way over, knocking one last time before opening the door. The happy greeting got half-way stuck in his throat when he saw the blood. Victor hurried across the room, painfully kneeling down beside the bathtub in the puddle on the floor. While he checked for pulse and breath, his own heart beat hard and fast. Once it was clear she was gone, Victor cursed loudly, hitting the tiled floor with his fist. He should have seen this coming, he should have been faster. Should not have waited. But those thoughts were no use now and he still had a job to do. Pulling out his phone he called his recruiter.  
“I need a new trainee and clean up in the flat of the old one,” he ordered in a flat tone that did not betray his inner tumult.  
_“She messed up, huh? Pity, she was pretty.”  
_Victor made a mental note to keep an eye on the bounty listings, to see if he could get rid of this pig without causing to much trouble for Don Falcone.  
“Do you have anyone on retainer?” He focused on the things needing to get done.  
_“Just give me a minute, I’ll send you the address.”  
_Not wanting to listen to him any longer, Victor hung up. One last time he looked down at the corpse, vowing to never let a closed door deter him.

**Author's Note:**

> I may have made Victor a bit too soft, but for the way he's portrayed in Gotham it feels right - don't think this would work with his comic counterpart ...
> 
> And another missed opportunity in Gotham was not using Oswald's injury in a scene where he just crumbled apart after a long day of stubbornly powering through.


End file.
